To Sleep
by FoenFyre
Summary: On the line between love and hate, she turns the latter on the world, and degrades the former with obsession. What happened to this once-hero? How can she justify the killings of those, one of whose kind, she loved? She doesn't. On Haitus
1. To Sleep

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own Tales of the Abyss, or any character below that appears in the game.

**_Summary:_ **On the line between love and hate, she turns the latter on the world, and degrades the former with obsession. What happened to this once-hero? How can she justify the killings of those, one of whose kind, she loved? She doesn't. Madness has her in its grasp, and it seems insanity is a genetic trait. Lukear.

_**A/N:**_ After months, I'm back with a new story. Don't worry, I'll update Tales of Time once I finish the Tear-centric fic for it.

* * *

**To Sleep**

By: Foenfyre

* * *

_Why...'_

_Why did you have to leave us—me !'_

_'You left me!'_

_' Why didn't you come back to me!'_

_'I loved you...'_

In an empty chamber, a faded voice cries out in longing.

Broken her heart is for her heart's desire, but the world and its gods have no consolation to offer her torn soul.

* * *

A woman stood ramrod straight atop a turret of Daath's Cathedral. Watching the procession below with a tight smile and empty eyes, she turned around and descended down worn, stone steps with ease. Her heels tapped against the step's surface in a strict rhythm: 1, 2, 3...Precise and exact just like her teacher taught her. Her smile widened, into a savage grin and she laughed. If she hadn't killed her, she probably would have been proud. 

She did not care to classify them or judge them, and maybe she was their greatest ally in that regard, but in her view, they were nothing to her—those things did not matter to her. While others persecuted and destroyed the lives not given a chance to exist, to prosper, she only waited and did one thing.

She watched.

And perhaps that was her greatest sin.

* * *

The stench was unbearable in the venerable city of Daath, the city-state central to Auldrant's prevailing religion. The vendors on the street sides stood within in its heavy cloud, desperately trying to ignore it and continue on with sales to those who had braved the overpowering force in Lorelei's name. The sources of the smell were unfortunate, as they could not escape themselves. 

In this line, a veritable river of bodies, were people of all kinds and creeds. Some were old, some where children and some carried a look of intelligence mixed with dread, wishing for the oblivious minds of their neighbors to help numb the pain. They all shared common bond: the filth they stood in and the fate that was to await them.

They all carried themselves without hope, without thought of a single chance for salvation because this was true. They were sentenced by a higher power, and they were going to go through it without question. This higher power being the will of the people who thought them sins of nature; democracy at its worst. Having hope would only prolong the pain until the end.

Uncaring, the pilgrims ignored cries for mercy and assistance; they just went by and observed the sites that were decorated in Daath's corners and by monuments. Why care for such monsters? They should not have dared been born in the first place.

They were copies of divine perfection, wrong and flawed in every way. For how could one imitate the divine hand of the creator in all living things? The Order of Lorelei had one a that answer to that topic: Cleansing.

* * *

"Commandant!" the woman turned at the call and raised an eyebrow at the soldier who had stopped to catch his breath. He was a new recruit, she remembered. The initiating ceremony of this year had assured that she meet all the new soldiers who would eventually come under her command. Standing in the center of one of the many hallway's of Daath's greatest cathedral, she waited for him to explain, but beat him to the punch when her short temper ran out. 

"Is something the matter?" she asked, crossing her arms. She was a bit cross about being disturbed when she was so lost in her thoughts, but she'd wait until he spat out his problem before she made sure he knew.

Snapping back to attention he put a shaking hand to his head in a salute and stuttered out the reason he had called her out.

"T-the fonstone i-is acting u-up!" he shouted hurriedly.

A strange look crossed her face, and her hackles rose. "Why didn't you tell me this before!" Her voice echoed, powerful and unforgiving, but she forgoed the usual punishment and fled. In a flash the commandant was gone, bounding away quickly towards the central theater with her staff knocking against the back of her knees in her hurry. The rookie shook his fear off before exiting and returning to his studies. There was a reason many delayed their business with the Commandant for as long as possible.

She charged down the corridor at top speed, and those who crossed her offered up prayers to Lorelei before jumping for safety. The commandant did not care for them, nor did she care about anything else in this moment that did not directly relate to the fonstone being studied in the central chapel.

The flaps of her long coat flapped violently, trailing behind her like a shivering river of red lined with gold, the new colors of worship presented to the Presentation Committee during her first meeting as Commandant. No one had thought to deny her this request.

With a swinging hand she slapped aside a lowly priest who had dawdled too long in her way directing prayers to a bust of Yulia Jue, and without a backwards glance went on her way up a set of steps. Flinging the doors open with a show of strength borne of several years of non-stop training, she paused to gather her thoughts and gain her breath while looking at the ethereal image before her.

Passing pews, her heels clicking on the tiled floor, with little notice other than noting their location, she stepped forward with slow measured steps, determined to not think on hope when such a thing was not probable. The small piece of fonstone given to the Daath Cathedral as a gift from Yulia City pulsated with a fiery light. Looking like a hearth freshly made, its light licked the walls like wildfire flames and illuminated every corner of the great hall. The light, a powerful force in its own right blinded the woman for only a second as she neared it. She raised a gloved hand to shade and protect her vision, and gritted her teeth as she pushed herself onward.

While avoiding older pews that were beginning to crumble and creak in disuse under the glare of the light, she dropped to the ground to avoid a ribbon of pure flame-light that manifested in thin air. "Damn it!" She spat, reaching for her staff, before recalling it would be useless against an entity imbued with the power of Lorelei. She instead directed a healing arte to her right knee which had been injured when she attempted to avoid the attack. "How do I get closer?" She said to herself. She had waited years for this moment, to confront the sentience Lorelei, and she wasn't going to let a little setback such as this to put her off. Another ribbon appeared and she was forced to retreat further until an idea struck her.

"Commandant, do you need assistance?" At that moment several soldiers entered and suffered under her smoldering glare—the ice in her blue eyes hotter than it seemed cold. They shuffled backwards, and she sneered at them.

"Why don't you return to cowering in your rooms while I deal with this. Alone." They took the hint, and exited, releasing sighs of relief when they thought they were out of her hearing range. She relaxed and went back to focus on her dilemma, much more important than those fools. The only way for her to command Lorelei's attention was to approach the fonstone while it was still active, which would not doubt result in her being reduced to cinder and crisp. The only way to keep it active and not get hurt would be to calm it as she had once upon a time...

_"Rei Va Neu Kuroa!"_ She sang the hymn as if directing an attack of her troops, forceful and unyielding, but something was wrong. Her hands trembled for a second in the absence of the usual fonic pressure._"Toue Rei Rei!"_ It wasn't working. In the past, when she had employed the hymn to heal, she could feel the force embedded in the lyrical message physically come into being as a pressure only the most fonically sensitive, as most were in her craft, could sense. But now she could feel nothing, however, despite this fact, the oppressive light dimmed enough for her to see the lone fonstone floating above a pedestal she had commissioned a few years ago. And within it was the sleeping figure she could only hope to see in her dreams.His arms outstretched as if to beckon her forward, she practically flew with great speed towards her target. The same sweet smile graced his face, as it had years ago before his departure, and his lids were closed over the green eyes she remembered in the most vivid of detail. He was here, or would be soon.

"Luke...It's you!" She reached forward slowly, uncaring of the ribbons that again appeared to defend their center. Tears dropped from her eyes and a smile graced her usually stony face. She was the picture of happiness and it seemed nothing would deny her that right. And yet, that sense of wrong struck her so violently that it was all she could do to repress a shudder."Luke, won't you answer?" she called confused as to why he was so unresponsive. Slowly, she realized that it was not exactly the Luke she remembered.

He was garbed in white clothes, yes, but instead of the long tail-coat, he looked the stuff of legends. Looking like a god from one of the old pagan relics, he was encased within the shining stone. Through with her realization she backed away and let out a choked gasp when the lids on his face framed by long red hair opened to reveal a stern and golden gaze. This was not her love. This was Lorelei.

With a snarl she poised her staff into an attack position. Her weapon thrummed with latent energy borne of her anger and rage; it had been long since it had been used in a proper battle, and it was ready to burst. Fonons crackled on its surface and heated the air around her, rivaling the lashing flames around her. To hell with the consequences, she thought, this is war.

_"Mystearica, will you not stop this?"_ A voice, one so familiar, and yet so foreign seared itself into her mind. It was warm and pleasant, and she nearly lost herself within it, but her will was strong and unyielding. She swung her staff threateningly at the figure in the crystal fonstone.

"Give him back!" she shrieked releasing a wave of first fonons, the particles of dark that engulfed the world when Aska fled in his never-ending search for Luna, struck the crystal but dissolved. Unfocused and as angered as she was, it was still a critical hit, but Lorelei, a being with millennium of experience, had long ago learned how to diffuse his brother's particles. They rebounded as seventh fonons, and blinded the woman as she fell to the ground. Landing with a loud crash into one of the pews, she jumped back to her feet, thirsting for blood and in a rage that her soldiers feared on the battlefield.

_"He died for his world, you of all people should understand that."_ the voice intoned, though it also conveyed a sense of sorrow within it.

"The world can go and die, I want him back now you wretch!" The one called Mystearica shouted, inflamed by his pity. The grip on her staff tightened, and she was prepared to employ the methods her brother had used to control Lorelei if only to bend him to her will and silence him. If he truly cared he would return what was hers here and now. "He gave too much and got nothing. Where is our happy ending, the one we deserve after sacrificing everything for you? My love, my brother--you took everything from me!"

The eyes now looked to her, and she nearly put down her weapon when an all too familiar look crossed his face. After Akzeriuth, before the end...Why did it haunt her so! She clenched her fists and glared at him defiantly, awaiting his response.

_"I am truly sorry."_ Lorelei said simply, looking tired and weary, before he disappeared in the same flash of light that took her heart away and had it replaced it with a hole that had yet to seal. It was an endless abyss, and could only hope to be filled. Until then, she would direct her anger towards what truly deserved it. The world, and those replicas that dared to survive after Luke's death. He was her only replica, and if he was not in this world, no other replica could dare to be in his place._"For both you and my children..."_

* * *

"It is time for you to sleep." A motherly looking woman, the mark of a high-level fonist clearly embroidered on her robes, said as she consoled the people walking into the newest addition to the monolithic cathedral. "It will not hurt a bit." This newly added hall was large and separated into two separate sections. One served as the entrance area, while the one following it was shrouded with shadows, the windows near it being covered with shrouds and pieces of cloth. 

Those replica's with the greatest level of awareness sighed, and slowly led their comrades forward, determined to end the experience as soon as possible.The replicas who had the youngest appearance expressed their apparent fears in loud shouts and cries, only to be silenced by the Oracle knights and related fonists who stood to the side to observe the proceedings.

The matronly woman smiled and opened a door and assisted the replicas in filing in the room by keeping the order and calming those in children form down, but at that moment a loud knock on the closed doors interrupted everyone's actions. A knight opened the door cautiously and jumped to the side when the Commandant burst through the opening, her fury at the highest any had ever seen.

"I will take over the Cleansing." she stated, daring anyone with a glare, to speak up against her. Slightly shaking, the woman closed the door on the replicas who had entered during the current session, and quickly exited, the edges of her robe trailing on the ground in her hurry. Smirking in satisfaction, Mystearica nodded to the rest who filed out with great haste. "Here you are Lorelei," she said to herself, "Since you wish to take everything, why don't I help you by sending your little monsters to hell, where you most certainly are."

She discarded her staff on a small table, and entered the second portion of the cathedral , closing the door behind her.A hundred or so dirty faces stared up at her with empty eyes, and she smiled, a harsh parody of her former kindness. She could feel a small kinship with these hopeless wretches. To have nothing to live for. It was the way she felt herself since that day seven years ago. When she raised her hands, as if in prayer, she felt a measure of bitter regret welling up within her, this being her first time actually committing the act, but it was the same fate she would award herself if her heart allowed her to stop her fruitless search for her love. The fact gave her small consolation.

Prepared, now, for the beginning of her self-appointed duty she began chanting as a dark mist rose out of her body and into the air around her.

**"Rise and conquer, destroy and pervade, I call upon the deathly stream, Styx, to bring her dead waters to this plane!"** The sickly colored mist rose and became more tangible, encompassing more and more as the seconds passed. It soon covered everything, holding the replicas in a choke-hold as they struggled for breath in the poisonous cloud. The Commandant stood in the midst of it, completely unaffected both physically and emotionally. She had endured and watched what she could count as hundreds of such occurrences--not wanting to catch her subordinates releasing the vermin in an ill-timed bout of pity. Now she would just wait them out.

* * *

Slowly, they all fell limp on the ground. The eyes were swollen and red from the poison, and as predecessors before them, they were dead. Several feet away were what looked like a mismatched family, clutching each others hands during their last minutes, but she swiftly turned and exited after banishing the miasma. Silent and foreboding, she was lost in her stream of thoughts again, but was approached by a knight she faintly recognized. Determined to snub him, she missed the look that crossed his face and was well on her way before she heard him call out. 

"Commandant Grants?" The tentative voice called out, heavy with something she was now personally unfamiliar with. She refused to turn around. If the brat wanted to speak with her, he could have stopped her when she was passing by.

_"Tear? I'm so sorry..."_ That voice stopped her in her tracks, and she spun around and marched back to the soldier who had tried to call out to her. Fear was apparent in his eyes, but she went on to grab him by his shoulders and shook him. Something within her had snapped.

"What did you say to me?" He stuttered, trying to respond but unable to in face of such fury. She threw him to the ground, and ran away, descending on unsuspecting priests as she again traversed the path to the central cathedral. Slamming the doors in a way reminiscent to her previous visit she put her hand to her staff only to recall too late that she had forgotten it in the Cleansing room. "Damn it!" Growling, she she spotted a long length of wood that had been a pew at one time and took it up with a wild snarl. The fonstone, as if sensing such danger, began to emit the curling flames that had protected it from her fury before, but she was beyond rational thought. She shoved her way through the fiery hurricane and struck the levitating crystal with the jagged edge of the wooden staff. It would not crack, and with no notice to the flames beginning to burn her skin and hair, she continued her rampage.

"Why must you mock me! Why must you keep him from me! I hate you!" The wood burst into flames and slowly burned to ashes in her hands, but she persevered in her onslaught hitting the crystal with her bare hands until she could not tell the ashes on her hands from the revealed skin the holes in her burnt gloves showed . She raised her hands as if in prayer, and directed a quiet question, so torn within that her anger was forgotten for a moment.

"Why? Why did you leave me?..." She fell to her knees, her energy exhausted, and in response, the fires retracted back into the crystal's center.

_"I am sorry..."_ a gentle voice in the back of her mind replied, but she was in no state of mind to notice or care about the peculiarity.

"I know! You've told me countless times, but you don't do anything about it!" she shouted to the domed ceiling, the flame of her rage ignited by the sound of her most hated enemy's voice.

_"I'm so sorry..."_

"And again you mock me, bastard" she pushed herself up and stood raising her arms again to the ceiling. "Come down here and tell me what to do. Fight you, seal you, I'll do whatever you want if you free him!" She was operating on the last vestiges of her strength, and it was only a few moments until she fell to the ground again. Tears came unbidden to her eyes, and she roughly wiped them off with the sleeves of her arms.

_"I'm so sorry..."_She was silent now, beyond replying to the voice and instead collapsed weary from her extreme exertions and the fires that had licked her alive. _"I'm so sorry, Tear..."_ The figure in the crystal slowly separated from his cocoon, and descended towards the fallen warrior, her form pale and her chest heaving. Kneeling beside her, he closed his eyes and focused, a faint aura encompassing him. Several moments passed, and neither moved. It wasn't until Tear opened her eyes and looked into his pale face that he opened his eyes and smiled, eliciting a gasp from the woman beneath him.

"Gods--Luke?" She whispered faintly, beginning to tremble as she raised a hand to his face. His eyes searched hers for a split second, before he averted them to the side. He turned his face away and stood, turning as if to return to the crystal. Slowly standing, she reached out her arm and cried, "Luke, where are you going?"

Not looking back he answered just as quietly as her initial whisper. _"I came to see you."_

"Then why don't you stay? You came, so why are you leaving? I waited--"

_"You hate me."_ His tone held no questioning tone in it,and baffled Mystearica to no end.

"Wha--what do you mean? I love you! Did that fool Lorelei tell you otherwise?"

"Tear loved me. You are not her." His voice cut through her soul and the breath in her lungs. She wasn't herself? It couldn't--it wasn't him.

"It's you again, come to mock me in his form. Fight me you coward!" ' Lorelei' deigned to not respond and she took it upon herself to approach him. Dashing forward, letting loose a few seventh fonons to ease her pain, she grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her. "It's you, isn't it, bastard!" Shoving him to the ground, she pounced and pulled a knife from her belt, putting it to his neck in warning. "For what reason have you come this time!" It was an order, and one it seemed the spirit would also ignore. She found her hand shaking, unable to slit his throat, but she wouldn't let him know that. However...If it was truly Luke, and she killed him, where would that leave her?

_"I missed you..."_ He replied softly, looking her in the eye. There was no look of fear, just acceptance untainted by any frivolous emotion, and it made her recoil. It was Luke, but--_"I have to leave now."_ Again. Again those damn words, what they represented, made a return appearance, but instead of erupting in fury, she was frozen. Looking at what she sought for for so long, she felt a small warmth in the icy cavern of her chest, and smiled hysterically, unaccepting of her second loss of her love. Moving back onto her knees she watched him get up and approach the fonstone again, this time, uninterrupted.

He paused, in a moment of weakness, but turned back before she could see the tears in his green eyes. _"Te--I... I am Lorelei."_ He spoke, the words piercing more than just the air they were spoken to. And in parting he uttered one last phrase, before entering the crystal and disappearing even from it's center. **"Sleep."**

She collapsed, and offered no resistance to the arte. In rest, she could immerse herself in her dreams and hold onto memories of happiness that now seemed so short in supply. To sleep, she thought with her final burst of consciousness, was truly a reprieve from all the world's cruelties. Perhaps she had been right in condemning the replicas to their fate. Then again, perhaps she had been wrong all along.

* * *

A/N: Based on a kitten my family got being put to sleep because of a disease she caught when she was still a stray. Her name was Lorelei (I named her that for obvious reasons), interestingly enough.  
So anyway, this came as a sudden spark for a story while we were waiting for the results from the vet about what was ailing Lorelei. I just added a bit of Holocaust, because I believe its plausible for the Replicas to be treated in this way if everything didn't end happily ever after.  
I feel sorry for making evilpsycho!Tear, but I couldn't pass up the chance for Tear following in her brother's footsteps. And I am a believer in the possibility of Luke becoming one with Lorelei because of the perfect isofon theory applied to Luke and Asch opened the possibility of Luke and Asch becoming "one". They share the same signature as Lorelei, so if Asch returns, why can't Luke become "one" with Lorelei...I am so a Lorelei fangirl! ; 

Hope Y'all like it!


	2. To Remember Glory

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tales of the Abyss, nor I am in anyway related in any way except in my fangirling.

_**A/N:**_ Thanks to those who reviewed...a story now has me in its grasp...Evilpsycho!Tear is too fun to let go now!

* * *

To Remember Glory

By: Foenfyre

* * *

"Thi-this can't be true..." 

The tick-tock of the clock punctuated every second she spent staring at the letter in her hand. Pale and trembling, she could do not much but stare. She spent hours trying to understand just what this piece of intelligence was trying to tell her; she was sure, had she been in the right state of mind, that she would have comprehended the issue much quicker than her current state allowed.

She slammed a gloved fist down on the table in the royal study, unbelieving and with half a mind to imprison and hang the spy that had given her this report just this morning.

* * *

It was morning in Baticul, the famed city of light, and Natalia could not help but feel at peace within the city she helped to restore. She looked out of the window, now her kingdom, and looked to see if she could spot a familiar mane of red; her search proved unfruitful. 

"My Queen." The slim woman kneeled and bowed; her dark clothing and ornately embroidered sash revealing her to by a royal intelligence officer that had been stationed in Daath to inform her of the activities of the Order of Lorelei. Natalia turned; slightly shocked at the person who had just appeared in her chambers, but composed herself and smoothed the blue gown she was wearing before returning his address.

"You are acknowledged. Begin your report." The spy nodded and took a letter from where she had tucked it into her sash and handed it to the Queen, before exiting in a surreptitious manner. She was one of the Queen's spies, and it was not permitted for anyone but herself and her king to know of their existence.

She examined the piece of folded paper, bound with ribbon, and grew anxious. The only reason the officer could have for not giving her an oral report was if the information was too important to be communicated between the both of them. She'd have to ask her husband what he thought of it when he returned from his morning rounds and training with Miyagi at his dojo.

She delicately placed the letter on a side-table, and turned to her mirror. Before having been interrupted, she had been dressing herself in her royal garments. Looking to her bed, where the rest lay, she held in a wince_. It was much easier when I had just been a princess and even easier when I had been trying to save the world_, she thought, holding in a bitter smile. To save the world and fail to save one of her important people that had once resided within it. It was a bitter irony, and one she had not taken easily._ Though not as hard as that one person... _She rubbed her slightly rounded stomach, looking to the mirror to see if she was showing obviously yet, but lost her line of thought when the mirror showed the back wall.

Her eyes then caught upon her bow, the one that she had used in the final battle against Van. It was hanging upon her wall, bright and beckoning her to take it up in righteousness once again. It was sometimes all she could do to not take a small trip out of the city and restore her fading archery skills by preying on the monsters that she now ordered her knights to exterminate when there was trouble. It was not as simple as she had initially thought ruling her city and fulfilling the needs of her people. Everything was so much harder since he left...

Straightening up, she picked up the next article of clothing, and began her arduous journey to being fully dressed. It had certainly been less of a hassle when she had been younger, especially since she had not cared for her servants, and had them doing every little thing for her. She now ordered them to allow her to do personal chores, so they would have less to worry about and be forced to do. She could thank this change in view to a Count of the Malkuth Empire. Guy...she wondered what the old group was doing now...

She let a wistful smile cross her face, and sighed. It was time to stop daydreaming and start being the Queen she was; she glanced at the letter on the table and withdrew the urge to give in to her curious tendencies. She was older now and had a husband to rule and work beside her. There would be time later to see what the Order of Lorelei was up to. With her dear friend Tear within their ranks, how bad could it be?

* * *

Tears began to stream down her face, and she barely withheld a shudder when she thought of her friend's state of mind. Why had she let her curiosity get to her? Perhaps, if she had opened it later with her husband beside her, the news would be better and would not detail her dear friend's descent into madness. To think of what she was doing to those replicas. Those with innocent child-like minds who had no chance to defend themselves. It was a nightmare turned reality. Oh, Natalia knew very well what had caused it. She remembered very clearly how Tear had been broken when they returned to find another returning in his place 4 years ago in the field of Selenia flowers that had been the beginning and end of their journey. 

What could she do to the friend who had stood beside her when her whole existence had come into question? How could she fight the woman who had been one of the few friends she had had when the world had turned against her? She let out a weary breath and reached out for a quill with which to plan out her method of fixing the problem. In all lands but Daath, the replicas had been at least accepted when the circumstances of their creation had come to light. They even lived in separate living areas that had been constructed for their use and education. Even her first decree as queen had been for that purpose, and it being so loudly lauded, she had no worry about gaining support for any action she decided to take.

She wiped her tears off with her frilly dress-sleeves, and began to scribble on the back of the letter with fiery purpose. Something would have to be done before another Van was let loose on the world. A single tear, missed in the hurried clearing of her face, dropped down and hit the letter. It was just the worst kind of coincidence that it was Tear she was working against.

* * *

Her shoes tapped against the stone floors of her castle as she passed various servants and maids on her way to the audience chamber. She was to meet with Duke Fabre, now her father-in-law, about the monster skirmishes that had erupted in the front of the city, blocking trader caravans and halting trade. It was an issue that needed to be remedied quickly, before Chesedonia and the other cities Baticul traded with, on land, decided to halt their trading. That would certainly start a chain reaction which would cause the trade they received from their port to decrease as well. 

Humming a tune that she had heard from one of her rounds in the city, she opened the double doors leading to the chamber, garnering awe-filled looks from the doormen, and entered without delay. Goldberg was discussing something with a foot-soldier from the looks of it, but he stopped the conversation to acknowledge her with a bow, the soldier hurrying to do the same, and return to his former activity. She stopped humming the familiar tune, and sat in her throne, folding her hands on her lap and nodding to Goldberg who dismissed the soldier and went to summon Duke Fabre.

A strand of blond hair escaped her hair bun and fell to her collar bone. Winding it around her finger she tucked it into her crown and smile when she heard the door open. It had been upon her husband's request that she let it grow out, so unlike her predecessors, and she couldn't feel but a twinge of vanity at thinking it made her look far more beautiful than before.

A man, Duke Fabre, stepped out from the door's archway, taking care to bow before fully entering and nodding to Goldberg at her side. His hair was speckled gray, but still held the red that made the Fabre family so distinct among the nobles in her court. And to help to further identify him, he wore the crest of the Fabre family, and now her own—a phoenix wreathed with flames and a sword held in its talons. His clothing followed a similar theme, using the same colors in his long coat and specialized military suit, which had been given to him in recognition for his actions during the Hod War.

"Your Highness." He said, standing before her throne with his customary serious expression. She returned his gaze and responded with a title of her own.

"Father." A smile stretched across his face, so much like her beloved's, and he relaxed the stiff posture he had adopted as he entered. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes, but she understood it was not directed to her. He had lost a son who had never had much pf a chance to do same, so it made sense that the name would carry bitter feelings with it even after years had passed since his leaving. He cleared his throat, taking out a roll of paper with proposals written on it, and began his presentation.

She blanked out when he began the introduction, having heard hundreds of them and knowing the gist of what he was saying, and took some time to appraise him. It would not do if he was not eating properly when the reconstruction was still in it's critical period. "It has been determined that Grand Chokma will discard our treaty, in accordance with its terms, if the trading issue is not resolved and dissolved to allow trade with other cities. It is my belief that sending diplomats to explain the situation will..." His voice droned on.

Mother Fabre had died soon after the news of Luke's death, so it was a miracle her "father" had not collapsed from the stress. Instead, when it was time for her father, the king, to succumb to the illness that had plagued him after the fall of Eldrant, he had stood beside her through the trouble of restructuring without including Daath's interference and promoting Malkuthian cooperation.

Daath had lost much of its support and the good-will between it and the rest of the nations was torn beyond recognition. Though eventually, with the existence of Lorelei proven to be a sentient being and the lore of Yulia proven to be historical fact, and not just religious drabble, people eventually drifted back to its teachings, and rejuvenated its power. Though, its power was never restored to the level it was at before the war, and the leaders of other nations were wary of ever allowing it such unparalleled power.

"And as it had been seen by your economic advisors, and the advice of one Chestor of Chesedonia, these following measures will need to be enacted to soften the blow of the fallout—Natalia?" She jolted into complete consciousness and looked sheepishly at Duke Fabre, her hands fidgeting at the attention. In the corner of her eye, she could see Goldberg at his post beside the two thrones withholding laughter as his shoulders shook almost unnoticeably. Scowling at his visage, she focused on her father-in-law, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

"Yes?" Natalia tried to inject as much confidence as she could into her response, but with the look he had favored her with as a child when Luke and Guy had gotten into trouble with her, she cowered under his stare. She wondered if this was how Emperor Peony felt when confronted by a particularly indignant Jade. With a soft snort, his sharp look morphed into that of a soft one and he returned to his report. She was sure that Mother Fabre would have been proud of his transformation.

* * *

Natalia was certain that Malkuth would join in, if not just Jade and the soldiers who had been commanded under General Frings. She needed to confront Emperor Peony to perhaps create a joint force so that neither nation would be too depleted of soldiers if worse came to worse. 

She stood and searched the bookcase covering the largest wall, and found a map of each region. Looking to remind herself of all the different possibly allies, her eyes alighted on Yulia city in the middle of the sea, which had become one of the chief sanctuaries for replicas after the Tower of Rem incident. With their fonists, still strong despite the fact that Lorelei had left for the fonbelt, and their healers, they would have adequate support for a minor confrontation. Then, if they needed additional back-up by way of guerilla warfare and traps, her husband could easily convince the Dark Wings to throw them their support. Though seeing _that woman_, Noir, again after she had made obvious her designs for her husband was a less than pleasant sacrifice. Lorelei help that woman if she were to be accidentally impaled with a fonon imbued arrow while in her immediate vicinity.

Placing the book back on its shelf, she returned to her seat and scribbled down her findings, not caring in the least for her deviation from her usual prim and proper script. A knock on the door signaled an ending for her brainstorming, and her husband walked through the door.

With red hair held back in a long ponytail and royal garbs similar to those of his father, he stood taller than he had been when she had seen him seven years ago. He was an imposing figure, demanding attention and not allowing anything to be completed less than perfectly, but when her eyes fell upon him, she felt warmer than she had been in a while, and felt as if this problem could be solved without the tragedy it had needed to be resolved last time.

"Natalia?" Asch said, slightly concerned when he spotted her red eyes and the mess of paper around her workspace. Her hair was limp and fell from her crown haphazardly, giving her the look of a wild woman. She gave a tentative smile, and then launched out of her chair in the blink of an eye to hug him, her chin reaching his collar bone. "Nat—what's wrong?" He wrapped his arms around her and she looked up, her tears beginning to plague her again.

"I'm sorry!" And the waterfall began. "I read the intelligence before—you came, and it wasn't good. And its probably all my fault, if I hadn't—" He put a calloused finger to her lips and said,

"Take a deep breath, Nat. It wouldn't do for our dear queen to collapse." His smirk calmed her, and she took a breath, resting her forehead on his chest, before taking a step back and blushing. She was doing that entirely too often these days. The mood swings she had also gone through were to be expected, but actually going through them and knowing about them were two different things. It unsettled her that she could be so unbalanced; it just wasn't seemly. "Are you better now?" Asch asked softly, looking her over to try to determine the source of her distress.

"I—I'm fine now. Thank you, love." He smiled, but then he turned to business. His face hardened so that it resembled him in his angry God-General years, and his green eyes seemed to darken as if also remembering that fact.

"What was that about the intelligence? I passed the agent on my way back, but she just directed me to you." He paused and appraised her again, "She said it wasn't good." Natalia nodded, slowly, and turned back to the other end of the long table underneath her portrait (her father's dying wish was that it was to remain), and then returned with the letter, the emotions again getting the best of her. He gave her a concerned look, but took the letter before reading through it.

_Dear Majesties, _

_As it has been previously acknowledged, the Order of Lorelei went through a reformation the years following the fall of the mythical Eldrant. In that time they rejected trade and even diplomats from other countries claiming that it was for the betterment of all. How much of that is true is still suspect, but I must report what I have heard and believe to be true. _

_I have recently just become part of the Commandant's inner circle. I have found that the post of God-General has been destroyed—rumors saying that the higher-ups claim it only promotes division between each military group (they stated the example of Asch the Bloody, your highness: the king went renegade and joined the usurpers)._ Asch snorted at that and reigned in the urge to laugh out loud. Natalia threw a stern glance at him, but he only smiled cheekily at her, and she blushed again.

_Another change that has been brought to my attention, and that is of the post of Fon-master. Previously having been occupied by the replica of the original Fon-Master Ion, the post is now taken up by our current commandant, Mystearica Grants, the younger sister of the late Van Grants. It has come to light that her bloodline is descended from that of Yulia herself, so it was seen to that the Fon-Master Florian was cleansed—this I will address later in my report—and the position of Commandant and Fon-master are now synonymous._

"Natalia? I don't see what exactly is so alarming to reduce you to hysterics. I mean, other than the two posts being combined." Asch commented, frowning a little and raising an eyebrow, "The whole thing is just a report on the state of affairs in...Daath." He growled the last part, having recalled the years of torture he had spent in that hell Van created for him.

Still pale, Natalia shook her head. "You need to keep reading. Check the second to last paragraph." His eyes scrolled down, picking up disturbing terms that gave him an ominous feeling of what he was going to read.

"She didn't become another Van, did she?"Natalia deigned to respond and stood quietly by his side. It disturbed him to see his usually energetic wife so despondent. Turning back to read, his voice caught in his throat.

_There is one mystery surrounding the Commandant that seems to link to her strange change in behavior. Luke. It is the one person she speaks of when she believes she is alone. Frightening, however it is, she seems to have encountered this "Luke", whom I and many other theorize is the other Scion of Lorelei, other than your highness, the king. She speaks to him mainly in the chapel which holds a fonstone presented to Daath's cathedral as a gift from Yulia City as a gesture of good will for the center of the faith both hold dear. _

_Just a week ago she was on a particularly violent rampage and after a few skirmishes, visits to the fonstone, and initiating a cleansing, she was found collapsed with severe burns in the central chapel, muttering phrases such as "traitor" and "you've deceived me". Having been near her during her during the beginning of her recovery, I was able to determine more. She states that she will do anything to return her "love", who I can only assume is this Luke, whomever he is. If I were to judge this woman's sanity at this moment, I would have to say she has little left, and according to your recounts during my first briefing of what to expect, I would also have to say that she is little like the Mystearica you knew._

_In conclusion, the final topic, and the most horrible thus far that I feel the need to bring to your attention is that of the "Cleansing". The Cleansing is a somewhat barbaric ritual stemming from the obscene prejudice against Replicas who have been carted to this fallen city, and gathered like rappigs in a sty. It is a horrific sight to see, and one I suggest my majesties avoid. They are then led into a newly constructed chapel which operates as a chamber of death when a fonist specially trained by the Commandant leads them into a room, in which, awaits their death. I am not completely sure as to what occurs in the room, as it remains silent, but a dark aura seems to seep from out underneath the door. Soldiers are then sent in to collect the bodies and bury them at an undisclosed area. If your majesties wish, I shall reveal my skill in fonistry in order to experience first hand what happens and advance in rank. _

_I shall return after the regular interval._

"This can't be true." The hardened ice around Asch's eyes cracked and let a look of disbelief through. "The Dre—Luke's woman is—doing this?" He looked to his wife and saw the sorrowful acceptance, and looked again to the document in his hand. "I—I can understand she would be grieving, even after all this time but," He was speechless and put down the letter on a nearby desk, gathering his wife in his arms.

"I know." She said. "It seems like our life, when we were all family, has gone away to some distant time. If _he_ had remained, perhaps..."

"There is no perhaps. There is only what is." Asch's gruff voice broke into her musings, and she was slightly taken aback at how he had returned to his biting manner. His eyes were closed, and it seemed as if he were struggling to not say something that he felt would upset her. He had been calmed by the return to the life he had been taken from, and his inner fire and weakened into a soft, warm flame. But this course of events seemed to have brought out the soldier in him, and she would do her best to return the same.

"You are right." She said with a weak smile. "And you are here with me, as we both deal with this issue." She extended her hand, and he took it with his hand. Both walked down to the other end of the long wooden table, and seated themselves without delay.

"I wrote some draft plans that you may want to see." Natalia handed him some of the papers she had written on while still in the throes of her disbelief.

"Since when have you been a strategist?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, looking impressed at what she had done in such a short time. She batted her lashes, grateful for such a reprieve in thinking about the nightmare, and responded in a teasing tone.

"Being married to you has its perks." He let out a great booming laugh, and she began to laugh along with him. If only this was a truly tranquil period which they could truly enjoy. Instead, the looked to the portrait above her, depicting a headstrong princess determined to do all she could do to prevent suffering, it was a time fraught with worry and violence. Asch sent her a questioning glance, and she just smiled.

Now was not the time to remember old glory and dreams.

* * *

A/N: So as you can see, Asch returned instead of Luke...I wonder how Tear feels towards him if she already hates Lorelei with a vengence. Forgive me, but I'm not planning any plot-moving action until I get every character from the party back in here. Think of the "To [insert phrase" as intro pieces...

And a hint...Tear has in no way given up...


	3. To Discover and To Dream

**_Disclaimer:_** I don't own anything to do with Tales of the Abyss, just the plot...

**Summary: **_In which Jade finds a book--that nearly kills him...And Anise has a bad day...really _

_Thanks to all who reviewed!! _

**_ArkNavy:_**About the "Guy thing"...they had a 'ship, but when Asch came back, they sorta broke up. The baby is Asch's! How dare you accuse the Princess of Kimlasca of having a child out of wedlock!-stabs you with a barrage of arrows and runs as you _back-step_ and pwn me-

* * *

**To Discover and To Dream  
**

* * *

_Tell me not!—Of loyalty and of hope,_

_The hand that has his hand on the holy sword,_

_Take's my—the world's and life's in his own._

_--"The Golden Gate"_

* * *

The rain pounded, and the lightning flashed outside the concealed room. Dark was the day, and so were the moods of the city's people. It was a typical occurrence in Grand Chokma, being by the sea, but the time of year was off--this only happened during the stormy season which they had just spent months in. The aura exuded by the event was more severe than it had been in ages. Emperor Peony was tempted to declare a state of emergency in the capital of Malkuth, just to get out of his daily duties, but this one day seemed different. Only the person within the room paid no heed to the strange maelstrom outside.

The streets were empty of people and had been for hours, save for the one person who had braved the storm in pursuit of knowledge: Colonel Jade Curtiss. He stood ensconced in the pale lighting of a room in a warehouse, and was completely unfazed by the storm. He had faced the end of the world, the deaths of many--he had not much to be fearful of anymore.

Standing tall and proud, he held a weighty book in his hands, it was almost too good to be true. Jade's over-analytical mind, sharpened by age and experience, linked this to several other instances where the same was true. His gut instinct, though it was rarely used, was often right and told him, that this was bad; but, in his usual contrary manner, he tuned it out, thinking this might have been the item he had been searching for. His fingers tingled, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He had not any thoughts yet of opening it, but now seemed as good a time as any. He placed it on a table and stood back.

The ragged and beaten tome lay before him, tame and worn. "The Golden Gate" was a book he had searched for since he had heard of its existence while in the apprenticeship of a fonist as an upstart in the Malkuthian army. Now, deep in the recesses of the true Malkuthian library, hidden from most in the guise of an old warehouse (there were still doubts concerning the Kimlascans, so they weren't informed) he ran a finger over the rim of his glasses, deep in thought. What were the chances of finding such a volume and holding it in this lifetime? Not that good, he could tell you.

Pulling out a wooden chair from a nearby table, he sat down lightly; still wary of its reliability (it had been a few years since anyone had entered). Brushing off some dust from the cherry wood table top, he carefully placed it down, his gut instinct once again forcing its input on him, and telling him to stay away. His hands jerked as he attempted to pry the cover open, almost dropping the book, but he held on with sheer force of will.

"What is this?" Now that seemed too strong for any instinct of his. Looking around to see if any trickery was about, he managed to place the book back down on the table without further incident. However, when he tried to force his hands to open the cover, there was a problem soon made apparent. "And it seems that my hands do not want to move." Jerking away again, he realized that unresponsive limbs, and a severe lack of self-control regarding the fight-or-flight response were curious symptoms of a disease he was sure he lacked coming in. Slowly moving his hands away from the source of his discomfort, he moved a hand to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, and then crossed his arms in thought.

His blue uniform was covered in dust, and who knew how many other mites of old material, and his brown hair, a few gray hairs visible, still framed his face the same way it always had with no lessening of volume. He was still in the prime of his life, forty-two years old and counting, but when confronting a problem like this, Jade had to wonder if he was getting too old for intrigue and the like. It had been far too long since he had been on an adventure.

Turning away, he walked familiar steps up, his footsteps still outlined on the dusty floor, to a solitary bookcase in the back of the large room, intending to investigate the book's source before the book itself. Jade usually found it simpler to investigate the source of the problem instead of the problem itself. However, several minutes of trying to detect any tampering ended fruitlessly, and he found himself seated before the book again.

"So, I can't approach it directly." He mused, his red eyes narrowing in thought behind the frames of his glasses, "I suppose using something else to open it would help." He stood again and surveyed the room for such an object, walking away from the strange tome. A poker, near an old and abandoned fireplace caught his eye, but he decided against it—He'd rather have something more trusted deal with the strange phenomena. A hand reached over and patted an arm, preparing to release his intended tool, but he stopped short of just releasing the energy and instead returned to the wooden table.

The book looked inconspicuous, and if it were not for the title, he was sure even his sharp eyes would have missed it...It was just that the energy he sensed before in it was certainly not unfamiliar, but also not a fonon he used to using, and it had been wreaking havoc with his senses. It could not be the seventh fonon, because he had found the symptoms did not match up with the previous studies of each fonon. The fifth fonon induced anger, and the fourth a sense of serenity, and the others put a person in other extremes of personality. The seventh had not been found to repeat any of the others, and was mostly associated with warmth and happiness, a strange mix of them all. This felt striking and...shocking, and strands of his hair, he noticed, rose and bobbed as if in agreement.It was a mystery, and he could not leave it be—both his pride and curiosity (he was not cat) would not let him.

The air around him hummed with fonic energy, and with a sharp twist of his wrist, his spear appeared in all it glory; its sharp headed pointed towards the cover of the offending book. He was not going to allow a book to get the best of him. He pulled his arm back, calculating how much strength the throw would need in order to smash the amount of fonic energy he had sensed while near it. If he was right, it would take quite a bit.

Jade's eyes narrowed again, and with a grunt, summoned fifth fonons to bequeath his spear with Ifrit's powers. It was harder to summon it here than anywhere else, save the sea. The concentration of water fonons in the city was to an almost insane level—and that was why he had decided to use it against an ancient book that supposedly existed in the city for so long. It was bound to have absorbed some of the water fonons at some point.

The flame's crackled and danced along its length, flitting off into different directions occasionally. Jade felt his palms begin to sweat, not out of fear, but for being in presence of the radiating heat, and ignored it. Taking a step forward to steady himself, he flung his arm forward, his arm a blue blur, seeing the throw through before releasing the spear. He saw a flash of light at the impact—and promptly dodged the rebounding spear in surprise.

"That was...unexpected." It was lodged into the opposite wall, and stuck deeply in—and it unnerved Jade greatly, though he did not show it. Recalling the spear with just a thought, small flashes of light winding around his arm before disappearing, he spoke his discovery aloud to make it that much more real. "So it can also repel any object intending harm, or anyone trying to open it." He looked thoughtfully around and picked up a bag he had brought to carry the tools for his research and steadily inched toward the book. "It's a pity Guy was busy, he would revel in the chance of getting to do physical labor again."

He stepped forward, and then suddenly covered the book with the bag. "But it won't resist capture." He summed up. Jade wrapped it within the folds of his bag, and took a hand to adjust his glasses which were askew because of his recent activity. He nodded to the book, as a victor acknowledging his opponent, and picked it up with little effort. Taking one more cursory glance around the room, he left through the exit and cut off the flow of light fonons in the room. With all dark and empty, he directed a smile to the thundering outside, his eyebrows quirking in amusement.

"It seems I have no choice but to partake in an adventure." And he exited quietly.

His gut warned him that not all would be as it seemed. A bolt of thunder cracked down to the ground, near the room. It seemed that the storm agreed.

* * *

_Behind a Gate_

"Brother?"

"...Yes, sister."

"Do I truly have to leave?"

"...I can only hold them off for so long. They are likely not to welcome to any of my attempts to mediate this issue."

"But, is it true—what Ifrit said?"

"What was it that he said?"

"That I've been unfair in prevailing in so much of it. I cannot help it...my strength has grown considerably during my cycle of reign."

"...He knows that. And he has grown jealous, forgetting the time he has spent as the primary spirit of this world—When the world was a barren place of suffering and war... I, myself, am restricted and allowed no quarter in affecting the world unless it is through the order dedicated to me."

"You were once stronger than us all."

"I—cannot say what I am in terms of strength, with no opposite to contest me...It is for that reason I am so restricted in my movements now."

"Why is that?"

"I am my own opposite. I can destroy and create: anything more would be a strain on reality. Giving me too much free-reign would no doubt result in much chaos."

"I...I'm sorry."

"I am not."

"But because of the last council, we sentenced you to be a watcher—for helping her--to never have anything to do with the p—"

"It is fine. You yourself have found that I can find a way to avoid this restriction and keep a closer watch."

"With one of your scions...that boy Luke."

"I am that boy Luke."

"...Sorry, it is just that I am not used to thinking of you as such...Brother?"

"Yes."

"What is it like?"

"To--"

"To be human. I mean, despite being composed of strictly seventh fonons, as you are now, you were a living creature just as all you--"

"It is both a wondrous gift, and undesirable curse."

"Truly..."

"You can feel emotions that are fleeting and capricious, like Sylph's moods, or unchanging and loyal, like that of Rem's love."

"So what of it can be bad?"

"You can feel pain equal to any pleasant emotion you feel, though without those experiences, one cannot appreciate the good feelings for what they are."

"It sounds complicated."

"Yes, but if you strip us down to our bare essentials and think beyond what the humans term us, you will find that we are the same as our people."

"Yes—I can understand that."

"I am glad."

"...Will—will you miss me."

"I will be watching over you as much as I can...?"

"I mean, without me by your side, as your sibling—will you want my presence?"

"...Of course. Why would you think otherwise?"

"...I—I was there during the council, and yet I did nothing! Why are you not angry?!"

"It happened a long time ago."

"But we assisted that woman in sealing you! Not one of us would wish that upon anyone seeing what agony you went through."

"And that is precisely why I forgive you all. We are family—a long-lived one, but a family nonetheless."

"...I thank you, brother."

"There is no need to."

* * *

Far away in a place the Colonel had only been a few times, there was another kind of storm to contend with...

"I'll kill him! I swear I'll kill that cocky jackass!" Anise was angry...no, that wasn't it--she was pissed. She could only take so much of that jerk before her self-control was torn and thrown to the side. Her hair dripped with excess water, darkening her highlights until they were a muddy gold. Her boots squelched as they stomped on the metallic floor, and an angry, pulsating aura pushed all innocent bystanders out of her path. They knew not to mess with the Boss's girl.

The Darkwing's base, just one of several, off of the Meggiora Highlands, was unusually quiet that day. Instead of seeing several people in costumes, all she saw were extras, security, and orphans walking around. She paid no attention to this, having gotten used to the sight over several of years, but she took care to not bump into the orphans--they already had enough to deal with without her pushing her angry mood on them.

Turning a corner, she passed by the Memory Screen (as she had taken to calling it) and continued forward until she entered the room that was her own. Kicking the door open, she took a look around. Costumes were strewn all over the place (the "Little Devil" costume taking a star position on her bed) and she began to strip down out of her soggy clothing. She was going to kill that blasted Arkhydr! Her water-laden boots went first and were followed by everything else--she just hated the feel of water. The way it slipped around and couldn't find it in itself to pick a shape was aggravating.

"Damn that man. I'll get him the next time we fight!" She slammed her hand into her opposite fist, and took deep breaths to calm down. She would rant about him later, now was the time to make herself presentable.

Setting aside her knife, she took her belt of tools off carefully and tore off the headband that was dripping vexingly in her eyes every time she blinked. Throwing it behind her, she turned to look at the mirror to see how bad the damage was, but aside from her clothes and the minor bruises along her limbs, it seemed that her sparring session with the idiotic hydromaniac, ended in nothing she wouldn't have gotten by the end of a busy day preparing for the next Darkwing performance.

She would have went along as well, to play 'A Tale of Two Worlds', at Chesedonia (she was always perfect for playing Raine, the healer half-elf with staff in hand), but apparently, word had gotten out to Noir about her inability to sleep a solid amount of hours lately, so she was left behind. The bags growing under her eyes may have helped to convict her. But she couldn't help but think, how was she going to help collect funds if she wasn't going to earn her keep in this place? She didn't know why Noir had to act like such a mother-hen sometimes, but it was annoying. She wasn't a little girl anymore. In fact, she had grown just as "large" as she'd hoped when she was younger, so no one could feel the need to call her a "little girl".

Anise grimaced as she caught sight of a particularly nasty bruise along the inside of her left arm, but she shrugged it off with a wince, and went to dress in warmer clothing. She slipped on some slippers, a short skirt with a dark, loose shirt and some armsleeves to hide her shame. "Like I'd give Arkhydr another reason to gloat about smacking me around." She huffed, walking over to a boudoire and opening up a drawer of jewelery she had "acquired" over her years as a Darkwing. With a hair-clip securing her still damp hair, a black choker lined with silver, and some small earrings she deemed herself ready to present herself to the world.

However just before she opened her door, it opened for her, and dark blue eyes, the color of the sea, winked at her with an accompanying smirk. "I couldn't help but pass by to visit and see how you're holding up. You do know that holding in your anger isn't all that healthy?" His eyes twinkled in that damned way they always did when he had the upper hand in their little competition of pride. Her fists, clenching until the bone was clearly seen, she smiled.

"Of course I know." He was thrown off balance by her response, but stood relaxed against her door frame. Soon, however, his muscles tensed as he sensed an oncoming attack. A fist flew out of nowhere and embedded itself just inches from his face in the air just above his head. A few strands of hair flew around like a flurry as the air her fist had displaced made its presence known, and he took several back-steps back in shock. "Which is why I'll enjoy releasing it on you." Her eyes narrowed, and her deadly aura flared again. "Leave!" Anise slammed the door, glad when she heard it impact with the jerk's nose on the other side and a muffled oath. She smiled a giddy smile. "Life is good."

-

-

Several hours later found her walking along the central plaza of the Darkwing complex, the walk around the circle a good place to relax as she inspected practice stages and shops. She held back the urge to see if she could beat the high score she had made on the Dragon Buster game, and instead went through a side-door that led to the children's bunks and play area.

It was a decently sized room, metallic as all were all the rooms in the base, but the walls were decorated with posters and the ground littered with memorabilia and knick-nacks. It was messy, but had a homey feel. Her eyes alighted on the small doll on the ground, and she smiled, taking a few steps forward, before bending down and picking it up. It was rough and obviously hand-sewn, as its seams were far from flawless, but it was perfect in its own way.

Anise stood silent, looking at it and running her fingers over the buttons and fur of the makeshift teddy bear. She wondered where Tokunaga was, and what had happened to it when she had fled from Daath with Oracle Knights biting at her heels. It seemed so long ago since she had even given thought to her partner in crime, and she felt slightly disappointed for that reason. It was not her right to forget it or Flo--her throat constricted, and she drew in a ragged breath, her finger loosening and dropping the doll on the ground.

She--she couldn't stand to think of that right now, especially after all that had happened. She wasn't going to be some weak kid who would cry at a moment's notice. Rubbing her face roughly, she turned on her heel and exited through the door out of the orphan's quarters. Why couldn't she have Guy's old inability to remember something tragic, like his sister's death?

Anise walked all the way to her room, the halls now emptier than they had been earlier, and slammed the door shut. In that room, with the lights off and everything silent, she dropped onto her bed with her head in her hands.

This is why she had nightmares.

* * *

A/N: I really had the Anise-centric chapter ready and waiting to be posted, but then I realized that despite my plans, she's playing a bigger part than I originally intended. As obvious, Tear is probably the main antagonist, but I would suggest watching out for Anise who seems to have changed the most out of the group...And Jade's and Anise chapter...I couldn't resist having his spear backfire on him! I love him soo! 

Oh, and even though Anise seems to be Furious!Tear at the moment, it's only because Arkhydr is like that one person who can get under your skin and have you smash their face in...You know--_that_ person.


	4. To Live Life as it is Now

_**Disclaimer:**_ _I do not own Tales of the Abyss, or any of its characters..._

**Summary: **In which Guy is slightly tired of his life, being accosted by a devious female friend, and having girls thrown at him...And Tear? Well she's evil even when severely damaged.

* * *

**Reviewers:**

_To everyone:_...yes, Luke will show up. I really didn't know that he was _this_ popular. I expected everyone to go for more Psycho!Tear episodes, but to each his/her own...

_jaffar8:_ Thanks!

_faded blood roses_: Yeah...I don't really think I've heard of a psycho!Tear, unless she's a god-general, or follows her brother in the fanon of the fic. I read (though I don't recall reading much of that)..It just kinda hit me that I couldn't really imagine her like that, so I set out to try to create it. Thanks!

_ArkNavy:_...I have nothing to say to you for demeaning the Queen of Kimlasca-Landvaldear!...And, yeah, Anise is with the Darkwings...you'll get an answer in the form of a flashback or interrogation from a certain someone in the next few chapters!

_Fox of Anubis:_ Sorry 'bout that. I'll try to get back and fix the pacing. I hope this chapter is a bit slower than the last.

* * *

**To Live Life as it is Now**

* * *

_Of Golden gaze and fiery halo of flames,_

_He comes to us as a savior--_

_A god come to this miserable place._

--"_The Golden Gate"_

* * *

It was early morning, and no where could the inhabitants of the city on the coast, Grand Chokma, see the sun perched on its pedestal in the sky. In fact, even the sky was obscured by large hulking clouds that resembled the large mountain ranges of Keterburg, but they were of a less pure and bright colors. Lighting arched and curled around those clouds, but the thought that a storm of lightning and thunder was the cause of such a view did not reassure the people of the city.

It was a foolish thought to most, so much so that the people and nobles did not bring it to their Emperor's attention, but the storm seemed so much more... _alive_. Other storms passed over impersonally, and did not do much to interfere with the daily life of the Malkuthian capital city, but this particular one seemed to do everything to get into the way. It was obtrusive and loud, but no one gave voice to these suspicions. It was foolish to think a _storm_ could cause such unrest on purpose, but the thought still preyed on their thoughts when they gave their minds time to rest and reflect: no matter how hard everyone tried to dismiss the idea.

On the edge of the city, which was predominantly taken up by the lavish and grandiose Royal Palace, life went on as usual. Nobles flounced about like balloons with the tie on their tails released, unable to stay in one place for far too long. Some attributed it to be a form of cabin fever, brought on by the unending days stuck in the palace, unable to escape and travel the city, watching their people work and live in a manner that was very foreign to them; despite the fact that all, if not most, were born citizens of Malkuth.

Puddles that formed within the extraneous halls of the palace were promptly avoided by men and women alike, the former offering help to their female counterparts in the form of a hand or the hinting of another route. Only one noble, and possibly the outcast of the lot, did not mind walking through puddles as he acted as a chaperone for his charges. He had walked through much worse, endured harsher weather, and had, over all, survived much worse in comparison to the curtain-like downpour that had been plaguing Grand Chokma and its suburbs for a little over a month. He was a newly reinstated noble of the ancient house of Gardios that had been practically destroyed during the famed Hod War, and a celebrated hero of the Score Crisis that happened a little less than a decade ago. He preferred to be called Guy Cecil, and was currently acting out duties awarded to him by the Emperor Peony directly.

* * *

"Slow down!" The leashes in his hands strained as he was pulled along by rappigs on their daily walk around the grounds. Sweat was beading on his temple, a testament to the treatment he had been suffering a full three hours and counting. The little devils, as he not so affectionately dubbed them, were running him ragged, and from the twinkle in the heavy-lidded eyes of one called "Jade", he was sure they, or at least one terror, were quite aware of what they were doing. "I really have to stop accepting this job!" The rappigs suddenly slowed to a halt and were earnestly sniffing the ground with eager snorts. "The Earl claimed he was going to be too busy today, but I just saw him in one of the halls just chatting with the maids!" He exclaimed miserably, his hands thrown into the air.

His knees hit a dry patch of marble tiled floor and he groaned in relief. Guy stared at the elaborate ceiling with a look of despair, reflected in a piece of mirror that was built into the ceiling to produce a more awe-inspiring effect. His hair was not anymore the wild mass of blond it had been since he was young (it was gelled back to give him a more "sophisticated" appearance), and his eyes were lined with deep bags that indicated a profound loss of sleep in the past few weeks. His clothes, a mix of light blue and white fabric occasionally lined with a darker blue, were of an expensive variety. His boots, once a shiny dark shade of blue, were stained with dirty puddle water, as were his clothing. He paid no heed to this, having spent most of his childhood in the employ of a noble family as a common servant. His only concern at the moment was to find a way out of this torturous arrangement. It was too much.

He heard faint giggling and quickly stood up, tugging the rappigs, pink and prone, forward with stiff, frightened steps. He may have gotten used to having women closer than a few feet, but having them paw and hang off of him, as fangirls were wont to do, was still too much for him. While the female nobles turned their noses up at him, he seemed to have garnered a fanbase among the maids and lesser nobles who often grouped together in search parties to look for him. Because of this, he became personally acquainted with almost every secret passage and nook of the palace. If it was alright to run away from their advances, he would have done so long ago by hiding in his workshop. It was like the maids at the Fabre manor all over again, except this time he had no Luk—noble friend to bail him out of trouble.

He sighed as the rappigs trotted back into their usual speed and brushed some of his hair away from his eyes. The entire atmosphere of Malkuth was gloomy, and it really did nothing to improve his temperament. Sighing he glanced at the sky with ill-disguised contempt. He had heard of similar storms further north, by Keterburg, but it seemed almost ridiculous with how long they were plaguing their respective areas. One would think the storms would have passed over them and given up by now. Now, he thought as he continued his disconsolate walk, he had no way to escape Peony and his outrageous requests.

With nothing more to do, he returned to his rooms, after depositing the rappigs in their suite (with considerable trouble caused by Jade, the rappig). For the rest of the day he planned to just laze about and tinker with his fontech. It was, after all, the one of the only joys that he had left in his life.

* * *

The Gardios family sword gleamed in its position above the fireplace, and the room was filled with a cool breeze. Similarly, the Vorpal Blade and Flamberge (two swords that reminded him of a time long gone) were mounted on walls opposite each other. Guy shivered slightly as the temperature seemed to drop upon his arrival, but he only rid himself of that thought and closed the door behind him. The main theme of the room was a light blue and white, as was most of the Chokma Royal Palace, and he had to admit that it fit, bordering the sea and all. He was still slightly embarrassed of taking up Emperor Peony on his generosity when he had been offered a place to stay, until such a time his majesty was ready to commission the building of another mansion to replace his lost birthright. He had been given set of several rooms in which he could do what he pleased; it was more than he had had at the Fabre mansion, so he didn't want to seem rude by refusing the eccentric emperor who had actually threatened him into it (the idea of being put up in Jade's own manor on the other side of the city, was threatening in itself).

"It's nice to be back." He said to no one, stretching his back to relieve some of the tension he had built up over the morning watching the little demons from hell. His eyes narrowed as he recalled something, "And I'm pretty sure that _Jade _was plotting against me with the others. Only Luke didn't..." He stopped and shook his head with a rueful smile. Some things were best left unsaid.

He pulled off his pale blue boots, and shrugged off his outer-coat before walking over to the open window of the parlor and looking outside. It was thundering, as if the city were under punishment from the gods themselves—he held it as a distinct possibility that Lorelei could return to wreak vengeance on the race that had so misused him, but again discarded the thought. He had no idea what to think of Lorelei, never having spoken to it (other than the time on the late Tartarus when it had possessed Tear), and so decided to reserve his judgment until such a time that they met again...Though he wouldn't have any nice words to say to the being that had stolen away his best friend, when he had just found his meaning in life.

He leaned against the window sill and forward until moving forward one more inch would put him within the grasp of the torrential downpour. Then, he heard something.

"_Sing a song of six gald, misery, and joy...bring along your children, and buy for them a toy..._"

"Ouch!" His head hit the top of the window, and he exclaimed in both pain and surprise. Guy threw himself back from the window and turned, half-expecting the door to open with both embarrassment (for she had surely heard him) and impatience (though Lorelei knows where that feeling came from)...he was not disappointed.

The lilting melancholy voice echoed through the hall, a beautiful and haunting melody that drew listeners in and put them in a pleasant daze. He was no exception, and often wondered if she was another descendant of Yulia Jue that, as luck would have it, pursued studying healing fonic artes. After several minutes, a knock was heard at his door, and he rushed, pulling on his boots and jacket haphazardly before taking several deep breaths, and opening the door with a cool expression.

It failed just as soon as a basket with a sweet smelling aroma was thrust under his nose.

"Wha—?" He let out, before collapsing on his bottom. Warm brown eyes and a tan face peeked out from under brown hair with an amused expression. The woman put her gloved hand on her hip, holding out the basket with her other arm, and raised an eyebrow at his antics.

"Is this anyway to treat a friend, Count Gardios?" She said this in a mocking voice, but Guy could not help but get flustered.

"No!" He shouted, inwardly beating himself for how foolish he sounded. She stepped closer, and he crab-walked backward without pausing to analyze his actions. She observed this without surprise and pleasantly walked past him towards a chair on the back wall. Next to it was a small table, and it was on this she set her load down. Making herself comfortable, she crossed her legs and rearranged her dark green dress, looking like she had walked straight out of a portrait all the while. He had turned around to watch her move about the room. Looking at her now, he felt the feelings of shame and embarrassment engulf him as it did every one of these meetings.

"Hi, Guy." She said, not showing that she had been affected by his display in the least. Her smile was bright and comforting, telling him that he was not in the wrong, but he felt bad anyway. "I shouldn't have scared you like that, but I couldn't resist." Her tinkling laughter rang throughout the room as Guy slowly stood himself up and tried to regain his bearings. He tried smiling but nothing he did seemed to turn out alright around her. "Are you alright?" her concerned voice said, and he finally managed to put a smile on his face.

"Don't worry about it," He said, waving it off awkwardly, his movements still tense. "I heard you coming, so I should have expected it, Sophia." She looked at him speculatively, as if trying to see if he was telling the truth and smiled again.

"Don't worry, you can make this up to me! I didn't bring you this freshly cooked bread for nothing." Guy felt his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach, and wondered what this woman would have him do _now_. "You can help me with my dancing for the upcoming ball. I still think I'm dreadful at it." He blinked, not having expected this, but hesitantly nodded. "Don't worry," She said, sensing his apprehension, "We don't have to do anything intense or too...close!" Her eyes twinkled, and he knew that he was not out of the woods yet. "But everyone else wanted in, so I'm afraid you'll have to dance with a lot more women than just me!" She beamed, and he felt his knees begin to weaken.

"_Why?!_" Was his horrified answer.

"You need to know how to tolerate the fairer sex sooner than later; after all, Peony is trying to set you up with every lady within summoning distance." The way it was stated so matter o' factly drove the point home and put the pieces into place.

"That's why he's been making me take his rappigs out on walks? To keep me here for the women he's been throwing at me?" She nodded and carefully opened the basket, the smell drifting over to him in the middle of the room. With a dainty hand she lifted a loaf of the bread in his direction.

"Want some?" She asked. When he didn't answer, she took it for herself and explained. "Actually, you're very lucky," at his scandalized expression, she nodded. "Without him throwing them systematically at you, they'd be jumping out at you from every dark corner." Glancing at him coyly through the corner of her eye she continued, "You are, after all, in addition to being the Royal Envoy with Sheridan...Grand Chokma's '_Most_ Wanted Bachelor'." He shook his head and sank to the floor, asking the gods what he had done to elicit such punishment. His prayers consisted if this: He was very sorry for what he did in a past life, and promised to never do whatever it was he had done, again.

On the sidelines, Sophia wondered if she should mention the last noble Peony had taken the chance to pair up with someone. She winced, and decided not to. He would find out himself—soon enough.

* * *

It wasn't until his odd lady friend had left, that Guy was finally capable of reigning in his emotions. Every moment with her was a draining emotional whirlpool. He wanted to seem calm and collected, but also reacted to every word she uttered. He worried that he was looking like too much of a fool in front of her, and if he did, he'd lose one of his only friends in the Royal Palace. After all, Jade was only around once in a while...It seemed like he was busy with something nowadays—that, or avoiding him.

"She's gone." Guy sighed, reclining on a sofa in one of the back rooms of the complex he had been granted. The sun had still yet to make an appearance, having continued to hide behind the curtain of clouds, perhaps planning it stunning reappearance. His mind was still spinning from the knowledge that he'd soon be in close quarters with several dozen females who no doubt wanted to jump his bones. He trembled at the thought and grimaced, sweeping a strand of blond hair back into its slicked back figure which was slowly, but surely, degenerating into its usual blond mess.

He had gotten better about his gynophobia while traveling with the heroes of the Score Crisis, but he had taken a few steps back when he had decided to part from most of his remaining friends (he often wondered what would have happened had Luke stayed...certainly not this drudgery) in order to get a feel for the life he had lost as a common Fabre servant. He had no friendly (at least in the end) duke's son here to help him from the clutches of maids, and his fellow nobles, other than Sophia, had opted to instead ignore the strange little Count of Hod with an obsession of fontech, so he now had no close friends (again, other than Sophia) to help him completely come to terms with his fear. He rolled his eyes when the thought of Peony's help came to mind. For the past few months many lesser nobles who had no worry about their status lowering due to their involvement with him, had turned up at his doorstep with an urgent order from the Emperor to show said Lady around "_lest utter chaos befall our great nation..._"

"As if," Guy snorted. The only emergency he ever saw Peony worry about was when his rappigs had disappeared. The imperial guards and the soldiers at the nearby base had been deployed to scour the palace, and it had only been when Jade had appeared with Jade the rappig in hand that they had discovered that they had been foraging the kitchen for extra food. After being berated for starving his poor "children" (Guy fed them just fine, thank you very much), the emperor had called them all off with a wave as he had gone skipping into the rappigs' suite to play with "his children". No one could look one of the rappigs in the eye after that (strangely, he noticed Jade, the rappig, walking with an extra flounce in his step...).

He rolled on his side, deciding to take a nap and yawned. Today was exhausting, and he knew that tomorrow would only be worse.

"I wouldn't mind leaving the city for a while...but where would I go?" He soon fell to sleep and dreamt, green eyes watching with a thinly veiled sadness echoing through his being.

His body shivered subconsciously as the breeze had somehow found its way into the room behind the parlor and lowered in temperature. The windows had a light dusting of frost that soon disappeared as a thunder bolt shot down from the sky near the palace just a mile or so away. The tension was thick in the air, but he did not wake. And Gailardia Galan Gardios certainly did not know what horrors were occurring across an ocean and several thousands of miles away.

* * *

"**_Move!_**"

"My Lady Fon-Master, you must not move yet! You burns are still healing and—" The man, with the mark of a healer on his robes, glanced fearfully at the intimidating figure trying to pass him.

"And since when have I cared for your opinion, you s_tupid man_! I am Fon-Master and I demand you vacate the doorway, **_now_**!" He ringed his hands and looked at her cold blue eyes and pleaded with her silently to remain where she was. It was all in her best interest to heal as most of her was covered in bandages while what was visible of her skin was pale and gave her an air of frailty. Seeing that he was taking to long to decided whether to vacate his position or not, she decided to take action on her own. The pale priest was flung to the floor, his head smacking the tile and assuring that he would not be awake anytime soon. Mystearica continued her way through the door, now not impeded. "Finally." She smirked, looking down both ways of the corridor so she could avoid any other unwanted detours.

Her formal garbs had been discarded in order to quickly diagnose her more threatening injuries when she had been found on the ground next to the piece of fonstone, so she was wearing her more casual outfit.

A tight sleeve-less shirt the color black adorned her chest down until the middle of her torso. Her pants were of a similar material but hung more loosely and were bound with a rope of firm dark red material that acted as a belt at her waist. Her hair was up in a ponytail and swung as she walked, every once in a while hitting her back. Her boots had been replaced with shorter, ankle-high shoes that hit the ground with a softer noise than her original footwear had done. She showed no sign of discomfort in her expression or gait, despite the chilly weather inside Daath's main cathedral, and the fact that she was descending lower into its hidden depths. She was a dark figure to behold, despite the fact that her weapons were nowhere in sight, but the fiery and dark aura about her did everything to make up for that.

She had a mission to complete, for her rest had given her time to gain more information and plan her next move...

She would soon win her beloved back.

* * *

_**A/N:**_** Psycho!Tear finally reappears to shoot some much needed suspense and slight plot development. And Guy, my dear, dear Guy, has finally appeared. I suppose he's suffering from his middle age crisis, though he's got girls throwing themselves at him. How could I make him so isolated?...(bawls like a baby)  
**

**The next chapter begins with more Tear, the introduction/fleshing out of new characters, and true story moving plot as the group...well, you'll find that out soon enough.**

**Key phrase for following chapters that contain a piece of the "Golden Gate": Wait and watch...**

**_On another note, lookie here for a preview of a humor two or three-shot that I am in the process of expanding (I actually started it last year, but lost it) and then posting soon:_**

_"That matter has already been discussed, and we have found that there is no choice but to allow you to continue as you are." Peony paused and pouted at Jade. "I agreed even against my own wishes to keep my dear little Jade safe." There was another bout of silence and it was Jade who broke it this time._

_"I'm sorry to have broken your heart, majesty, but must you express your concern so strangely?" Peony grinned and shook his head._

_"I was talking about my _rappig_, Jade. __Jade-y is so sensitive to what others around him say! If he were to hear that his namesake had died, and wasn't told that it wasn't him specifically, he might worry his little heart out!" The others around the table sighed while Luke and Guy shared a bemused expression._

--**D'ya like?**


	5. The Game Begins

**_Disclaimer:_** _I never have and never will claim rights to Tales of [insert name non-relevant to the game], or in this case, Tales of the Abyss. I only own Arkhydr…_

**Summary:** In which Anise has freaky minisode dreams, _almost_ meets an orphan, and Tear is disappointed.

* * *

_Reviewers (from oh so long ago):_

Culinaromancer: Glad to see you think so, and I'll try the best I can.

Nirvana Fox: I know, don't you love the whole premise?

Lord Mordaq Sevillate: Thanks (I think) and I'm pretty sure that I'm a devout Jade-ist, so his sarcasm will be featured heavily whenever he does show up. Because he will...whether I want him to or not.

* * *

_**The Game Begins**_

**_

* * *

_**

* * *

_His hands beget miracles—Selfsame and whole,_

_Healing with nary an ill word—Confidence in his hold,_

_His voice is a thing of beauty—He sings all songs and one,_

_His being can mold the world just simply—A creator and destroyer in one._

_**-"The Golden Gate"**_

* * *

'_KNOCK!_'

"Rise and shine, kid!"

"_Wha—?" She opened her eyes and was in what she was sure was a dream, a lush garden filled with vegetation of all kinds, spread all over the landscape for as far as she could see._ _The room was bereft of a source of light, but she could still see everything as clearly as if it had been high noon. A small patch of Selenia flowers was close to her, and for some reason they were blooming as she watched._

Anise murmured nonsense, and flipped onto her side, her mind drifting lazily as she reentered the world of her dream.

…_she gaped as she tilted her head back, hair shuffling back as well, to the figure floating over the meadow with wings brighter than the sun._

"Yo! Midget, ya in there? I got a new kid here to see you." This earned a heated snort from the girl buried under her blankets. Alas, the blue-haired menace was not enough to wake the sleeping princess. There was then a scraping and jingling noise that could be heard coming from the other side.

_He wore a crown of gold, seven gems placed into it and archaic symbols dancing on its surface. If her eyes tried to focus on the symbols, she would faintly recognize them and they would flash out of existence and change. His arms were gloved white lined with gold, the motif of his outfit, and a robe covered most of his clothes. His wings were bright like light but also flared occasionally like a flame._

This image perturbed her for some reason, and even in real life her hand clenched as if holding a weapon.

"_I beg of you to watch over my sister," He said, his voice growing quieter. The shimmer of his wings dimmed, and she felt the atmosphere darken almost visibly._

"I beg of you?..."Anise parroted sleepily, waking slowly and suddenly aware of warm breath by her ear.

"Boo." Came a whisper, and she jumped and collided with the opposite wall, her hands trying to gain purchase so she could scramble further from…Anise heard muffled snickers, and the gears in her mind slowly, but surely, began to crank.

"ARKHYDR!" The girl growled with a promise of pain in her wide-eyed, brown gaze. The blue-haired offender raised his hands in an attempt at supplication, and yet backed away slowly as she parted from the wall and began to kick off the covers and stalk towards him.

"I know you like to fight, but in that? That's just asking for some _ideas_." He pointed while wriggling his eyesbrows, and she looked down. Anise was wearing naught but a thin shirt that went close to the middle of her thighs and some underwear (that, thank the gods, he couldn't see), but even as her face began to redden, she made no move to hide. An incantation on her lips, Arkhydr took this as his chance to make a run for it, leaving his unfortunate victim to ride out the last waves of her heart tremors. He left with some parting words, "Just remember to tell Ms. Noir that I tried to do what she told me!"

"The bastard." She commented to the air, mildly, "As if I'd tell her now." Anise shook her head, her hair, dried after the debacle of two days ago, swishing about her head like a streaked curtain. She turned to begin the new day, however unwelcome it was, and sighed. Anise just knew that something bad was going to happen. The days when she got caught off her guard always seemed to turn out that way.

Just look at the day before all the world-saving adventures started. She'd woken up with a monster's muzzle in her face and had promptly cussed out all her surroundings.

So, yes, she was pretty much cursed.

* * *

Later, after cleaning up and dressing up, Anise found herself wandering the hallways, bored again. Her half-skirt swung loosely around her hips, and the knee-high boots made little sound on the metallic floor. She was wearing no weapon, save for the dagger hidden in the seam of her short jacket, and felt hopeless when she found that was so, "It's not like I can do anything now, grounded like this." The sounds of smaller footsteps on the metallic floors of their hideout echoed from behind her, and she turned in time to see a small body careen down the hallway. Another came immediately after that, but bumped into her leg, so Anise found herself looking into large blue eyes. She pointed silently, down the hall, and shoved the kid in the direction the other had gone.

The small kid, only up to a little over her hip, blushed and muttered stuttered apologies. Anise waited patiently (a trait that had only come with many bruises and her own fondness for children), with a hand on her hips and an eyebrow raised while she waited for the boy to get himself together. She never knew why the kids always hero(ine)-worshipped her as she never had that sort of fixation on Noir who would have logically been the one she would have respected the most. She wasn't

"Sorry, Ms. Anise!" Anise shivered, still not used to being addressed with a title, but smiled. The kids always managed to make her feel better. The kid stared up at her for a while longer but shook his fair head and took a few steps to catch up to his past speed. However, he did not leave without a parting remark.

"And Ms. Anise!" He called hesitantly as she nodded her head, absentmindedly brushing away a few short, loose strands of hair from her face, "Mr. 'Hydr is saying that you need to go back to our rooms, for the new girl." Anise paused.

They had a new orphan in? She was pretty sure none of the members of the Darkwings or its sister operation, The Black Dream, had reported the loss of some family members. And she was pretty sure that they still didn't accept kids without a good reason or connections, a great deal of fuss, and some cursing…

"Thanks, you can go." She said, dismissing the kid who had thus far stayed near with an expression of confusion at her delayed response. Could it be that Noir going full-out on her "grounding". Her hand clenched. This was important business! What right did Noir have to exclude her when she'd said she was part of the inner circle of their organization? Was she not to be trusted?! Brown eyes blazed with thinly hidden fury as she stood her ground against her treacherous thoughts. It was strange how these thoughts just came all of a sudden and so viciously too…She took a deep breath and tried to find her center. 'Think of anything,' she thought, 'a story, a line, a song…' And there it was. She exhaled softly, her chest depressing and the anger seeping out of her. She did not bother to think about why the song that came to mind was what calmed her. "It could be nothing." Anise said, a bit drained. She wasn't used to holding it in when Arkhydr was such a punching bag.

"So I'll just go see her and find out what the deal is." Her foot stopped as it had risen, but she shook it off as she proceeded

If she had truly wanted a life without saviors, she should have heeded that inclination.

* * *

Her wounds were slow in healing, yes, but mere physical pain would not be her undoing.

Mystearica strode commandingly through the stone hallways and arches that comprised the large underground of Daath's Great Cathedral. The stone radiated no heat, and instead sucked up all the warmth, but it was no matter to her. Bandages, tightly wound, surrounded her visible torso and her arms down from her elbow. They were no longer the pristine white they had been while she had been first treated, but they weren't so dirty as to require immediate attention—though her hold on the seventh fonon had become increasingly harder to control, a simple _**First Aid**_ was not a tall order.

There was no one in the immediate vicinity, either hiding from her wrath (as they had become accustomed to sensing) or busy elsewhere with other tasks. It was also of no matter to her. She only had one purpose now, and it would be seen through.

"To the left." She said, remembering the directions she had to take in order to arrive at her destination. A fork in the hallway appeared, and she took to the left with barely contained excitement. Closer to reaching her one purpose. So close!...

The stone walls and floor became increasingly more worn and aged as she passed, and that was to be expected. She was going into a place that all but the highest-ranked of her order could see—the "Holy Archives" of Daath that were a point of awe and envy for those from the other nations of Auldrant. _He_ had told her that she would find what she was looking for, and his price...she had no care if it would get her beloved back to her.

Padding softly as she approached a gilded door that looked untouched by age, she reached out carefully and pushed it. It fell away easier than she thought it would, and so she had to withhold a gasp as the balance that she had depended on the door for slid away from her outstretched hands. Her breath had, before, become a mist on the air outside, but the moment she entered, she noticed the temperature rise significantly. What this meant—whether was closer than she thought, or fire fonons had accumulated over time—she did not know. She only acknowledged the welcomed, but not needed, heat as she walked forward into the large room.

The room was what one could call a thing of beauty. Its bookshelves lined high and mighty above her head; she felt a sense of awe (however muted) as she saw the tomes lined up and ordered in such a scene.

On the walls were paintings of all times and eras, and she did not doubt that she could probably search out and find her ancestor's in such a place. This room was simply—history, and her confidence grew with every step. If any place were to have _it_, then it would probably be in this collection. Beginning, she wandered in-between rows, searching for that one fonon signature that would tell her she had found her target.

However, hours passed and she was no closer to finding her quarry.

"It must be here!" Her heated whisper came as her search proved unfruitful. Her hands slid over worn and aged texts as her usually frigid eyes scanned the titles in a desperate manner so unlike her. More time passed and she lost herself within her task, and though there was no time-piece in the old room, she knew it was passing faster than she could have thought. Her body clenched as she continued, her eyes filling with righteous rage and her teeth grinding together in mounting fury.

"It said—_here!_" And it was then, when she almost lost all hope that she had found it, for where the final place it could be caught her eye…She saw a scorched shelf and knew it not to be a coincidence.

Mystearica could not voice the pure fury that welled up within her.

—And the room's temperature increased a few degrees.

"NO!"

* * *

_**Kinda long A/N:**_ Does the woman not know how to speak in an inside voice?...Even I don't know. So here, after a long while, is the 5th chapter. I won't even get on my knees and beg your forgiveness because it wouldn't make it better…:sobs hysterically: So, yeah…Is the tone of the story pretty much constant? I'm crap at humor so I guess trying a story for more serious is what I've decided to focus on.

Anise…yeah. Still at the base, and yeah, I've decided she's going to be the heroine for reasons known to myself (for once). And Tear is looking for something, but are you sure it's what you suspect it is?

Who do you guys want to be focused on in the next chapter? Other than Anise…and real-time Luke ( I wouldn't mind a flashback Luke). And I'm kind of partial to some Asch focus. This part of the story is pretty much flexible as the concrete stuff pretty much happens in the end. And yes, if you are wondering, this is starting into the main story and not just an intro filler.

One more note: I'm trying to keep the chapter lengths around the same size. Do you'll like the way it is, or would you rather shorter and quicker ones?

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End file.
